


Winter Winds

by accidentallyanoctopus



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Does the way I write count as purple prose?, EOTL-update-inspired, Fingering, M/M, Scout is fantastic at sex for some reason, Semi-PWP, Sex, Sniper is not used to the cold, Trans Male Characters, Vaginal Fingering, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallyanoctopus/pseuds/accidentallyanoctopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Oh the warmth in your eyes<br/>Swept me into your arms<br/>Was it love or fear of the cold<br/>That led us through the night?<br/>With every kiss<br/>Your beauty trumped my doubts'</p>
<p>- Mumford and Sons, "Winter Winds"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Winds

**Author's Note:**

> One of my absolute favorite tropes is "Oh, you're cold? Lemme help you not be cold through cuddles/makeouts/sex."

You have never felt this cold in your entire life. The wind rips through you like a knife as you patrol around the mountain base, making your bones ache. Goddammit, you're Australian; you're used to heat that scars your skin, not cold that freezes your lungs! By the time you get back inside, you're shaking and shivering, chilled and cranky.

Will is listlessly leaning against a crate, bouncing a baseball against the wall. You know he's bored, that the isolation and lack of activity is getting to him as much as the cold is bothering you. But you have to figure out what BLU is planning, what they're up to. And it doesn't hurt that you get to spend some quality alone time with one of your favorite people in the entire world (come to think of it, he's actually one of the few people you actually voluntarily interact with – Miss Pauling, Tavish, and your mum being the only others).

He looks over when you lean your rifle against the wall, the hollow “thunk” making him realize someone else is in the room. “Heya, Mick,” he says through a yawn. “Lemme guess – still no clue what BLU is up to.” You nod, grunting as you fumble for your coffee mug, your nearly waxen fingers refusing to bend like they're supposed to. “You okay there, babe?”

“Bloody freezing,” you mumble. He walks over to you, tapping you on the shoulder gently before wrapping his arms around you from behind. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body, and you sink into it like a favorite recliner.

“You're such a frickin weenie,” he says, chuckling. “'Rugged outdoorsman' my left asscheek.” You grumble, rolling your eyes. Like he could survive a night out in the bush alone, with only the stars and the moon to keep him company. You tell him so, but he just laughs again, reminding you of how he grew up in the slums of the inner city, with drugs and gangs and violence.

“Look, I know a surefire way to warm you up,” he says, spinning you around and pulling you into a kiss. He's so warm, so full of energy and life and passion. He makes you feel dizzy and excited, like you're going to explode from all these feelings. It's terrifying and wonderful.

Your embrace soon leads you to the floor, your back against a crate as he hovers over you, sucking in lungfuls of your air like he's drowning and you're the only one who can save him. Layers of clothing are shed and tossed will-nilly as you scramble to touch each other. You feel warmth bubbling inside of you, offering your chilled bones some respite.

Suddenly, his fingers are at your opening, and he looks at you with anticipation in his eyes. “This okay?” he whispers, like he's afraid to wake something, like being any louder would ruin the mood.

“Yes, yes,” you say, your voice just as quiet. He slips a finger inside you, and it feels like someone punched you in the gut while kissing you. You always forget how different it feels to have something inside you like that, how strange and fucking amazing it is. He thrusts and curls it against your insides, making you wheeze out tiny moans.

One finger soon becomes two, then three, as he pistons them in and out, catching your sounds of pleasure in his mouth as he kisses you. You feel like you're on fire, like your body is burning up. Is this what bliss feels like?

Your orgasm comes with a whimper, a feeble moan, and he holds you as you shake and whine. You can see him licking his fingers clean through the haze, and another moan rips from your lungs. How does he look so good doing that?

He stands, and you think he's going to leave, but he's only gone a few moments before returning with a blanket. Sitting down next to you, he wraps the blanket around both his and your shoulders, pulling you in close to close out the returning cold. “That feel better?” he says, smirking like he's done something no one else has ever thought of before. You kiss his jaw in response, too worn out to find words. “Thought so.”

You don't get up again until the wind has died down and the sun has set, too busy basking in the warmth of your favorite person's arms.

 


End file.
